Cole was married?
Those three words were on a vicious cycle despite the more pressing things going on—say, like the highly attractive detective currently calling a forensic specialist to come dust for prints.
My heart was thundering in my chest as Mom roamed into the kitchen. I numbly introduced her to the detective and then excused myself. I needed a few moments alone to really process what I’d just learned.
I walked through the dining room, rubbing my palm against my sternum. I didn’t know what to think or how to feel. We hadn’t seen each other for ten years, and I had been with other people. It wasn’t like I had thought Cole was celibate and saintly, waiting patiently for my return. I figured he had been in relationships, and for the longest time I believed he was married, living out the happily ever after I’d wanted so badly to be a part of. But he hadn’t said anything to give the impression that he’d been married.
How could Cole not mention that? Being married seemed like a super important detail when you were talking to someone about second chances and breaking down Teflon walls.
Then again, we’d only been back in each other’s lives for a week.
Only a week.
Plopping down in the chair behind the front desk, I realized that we were moving way too fast—I was moving way too fast. Obviously, there hadn’t been a lot of time for Cole and me to have multiple in-depth conversations, but being married was something major. Something I thought someone would bring up pretty quickly.
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, the ache in my temple slowly receding. Mom’s laugh carried from the kitchen, and I had no idea what the detective could be saying while investigating possible evidence related to a missing person that would make someone laugh. Otherwise, the inn was quiet. The guests were out, and in those moments, I realized what I was feeling wasn’t so much disbelief.
It was hurt, and it was stupid, because I didn’t think I had the right to be hurt over the fact that Cole had indeed moved on to the point that he got married. I’d left this town. I’d left him, and just because I hadn’t moved on, I hadn’t expected the same from Cole.
It hit me then, much like it had the night before when I woke up and saw Cole sitting there, that I didn’t just love him, I never stopped loving him. He’d burrowed his way in, digging deep and carving out a piece of my heart just for him, all those years ago, and he was still in there.
That’s why discovering that he was married from a virtual stranger hurt. That’s why I was questioning what the hell I was doing when it came to him.
Screw the being-alone-and-sorting-things-out part. I needed to call Miranda and tell her what I’d learned.
Opening the desk drawer where I stashed my cell, I reached for it. Her phone rang and then went to voicemail. Knowing she hated voicemails, I hung up without leaving one.
Rising, I shoved my cell into the back pocket of my jeans as the door to the inn opened. I looked over, and my heart stuttered as Cole walked in.
It had started snowing, and sprinkles of the white stuff dusted his shoulders and hair. Grinning, he thrust his fingers through his hair, brushing the snow off as he said, “Hey, babe.”
“Hey,” I whispered, and the damnedest image formed in my mind. Cole in a tux standing at an altar as some faceless but most likely beautiful woman in white slowly approached him.
His brows creased together. “You okay?”
“Yo, Landis.” Detective Conrad was in the sitting room. “Can we talk for a second?”
“Yeah.” Cole’s gaze remained trained on me. “You all right, Sasha?”
I wanted to blurt out the whole marriage business, but now was not the time, so I nodded and smiled. “Sure.”
He studied me for a moment and then walked over. Detective Conrad clapped a hand on Cole’s shoulder. They headed toward the dining room, passing Mom on the way.
Her hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck in a low bun, but several thin wisps framed her face. She placed her hands on the desk and leaned over, whispering, “That is one attractive man, isn’t he?”
My lips twitched. “Yes, he is.”
“Such a small town,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, “and I’ve never seen that man. I would’ve remembered seeing that man.”
That made me laugh. “He went to the academy with Cole apparently.”
Her gaze shifted back to me. “Is that so?”
I nodded, wanting to tell her about Cole being previously married, but before I could say anything, the inn doors opened yet again. This time it was new guests.
By the time we had them checked in and upstairs, James was banging around in the kitchen preparing the evening meal, and an older man had showed up from the police department. I caught a quick glimpse of him, and luckily he wasn’t wearing anything that showed he was from a forensics unit. Cole and Detective Conrad were in the old kitchen with the investigator, and looking for things to keep my mind busy, I realized we hadn’t grabbed the mail yet.
Slipping out the front door, I hunkered down in my sweater as the brisk wind circled around me. Snow fell in a fine sheet, dusting the driveway. For once, I actually had boots on instead of flip-flops, but I was wary of the icy spots. I reached the end of the drive, and stepped outside the stone wall, reaching the mailbox. Wishing I’d stopped to grab gloves, I opened the lid and quickly yanked out the contents. There were several bills. Of course. Something from Triple A, and a small package about four inches long and narrow.
As I walked back up the drive, I turned the package over. Surprise flickered through me. The little brown package was addressed to me. Having no idea who it could be from, I glanced at the sender’s address.
“Where in the hell is your jacket?”
I glanced up at the sound of Cole’s voice. He was standing on the porch, the corners of his lips turned down. “In the back room.”
He prowled toward the steps. “Just in case you haven’t realized, it’s snowing.”
“I didn’t want to bother the investigator.” And I also was sort of avoiding him. I climbed the steps. “Besides, I’ve been outside for like two minutes.”
“It’s snowing,” he repeated.
“And I’m heading back inside now.” I walked past him, but he cupped my elbow. “Wha—?”
His mouth cut off my words as his other hand circled the back of my neck. The kiss caught me off guard, and I almost dropped the mail, but within seconds, I wasn’t thinking about what I held or anything other than the feel of his lips against mine. His kiss . . . damn, he always kissed like a man who believed he wouldn’t get another chance.
It was mind-blowing.
Lifting his mouth, he gently squeezed the back of my neck. “We need to talk.”
I believed that we needed to kiss again. I opened my eyes. A gust of wind blew snow onto the porch. A second passed, and then I remembered. My eyes flew to his.
“I know Tyron told you.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Cole—”
His pale eyes held mine. “I didn’t want you to find out that way.”
“How did you want me to find out?” I pulled free, putting space between us, because with him holding me, standing right there, it made it hard to be objective.
“With the words coming out of my mouth,” he replied. “Let’s take this conversation inside.”
My heart was thumping, partially because of the kiss. “I have to make sure everything is good to go for dinner service.”
A brow rose as he opened the door. “Your mother is in the kitchen with James, and I’m sure they have it covered.”
Warm air greeted us as the door swung shut. “What about the detective and the investigator?” I asked, keeping my voice low. “Shouldn’t you be with them?”
He cocked his head to the side. “I should be right where I am, talking to you. Don’t shut me out.”
I squinted. “I’m not shutting you out.”
“You just found out that I was married from someone other than me,” he said in a low voice, angling his body toward me. “We need to talk about that, but you’re coming up with excuses to delay it. That’s shutting me out.”
Placing the mail behind the desk, I admitted he had a point. I glanced toward the sitting room. One of the guests was resting in front of the fireplace.
“Okay. Let’s go up to my apartment.”
We didn’t speak on the way up, taking the main staircase and hitting the staff one from the third floor. Once inside my apartment, I leaned against the closed door. Cole stood in the center of the room. He opened his mouth, but I spoke first. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was planning to. I know that doesn’t mean much at this point, but I was. Do you remember when we had dinner and I said there was stuff we needed to talk about?”
My brain raced back to the dinner, and I did remember that. “Okay. So the dinner got way off track with everything, but we’ve seen each other nearly every day since then. That’s kind of big news not to mention it.”
“You’re right.” He stepped forward. “But a lot of stuff has been going down. Every time there seemed to be a right time, more shit went down. I have no reason to purposely hide that from you.”
“I don’t . . . I don’t know what to think,” I admitted, tipping my head back against the door. I let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not like I believed you were single this whole time. There was even a part of me that accepted you had married. I wanted that—wanted you to be happy and in love. I really did.”
“I know.” He was another foot closer. “But I’m taking it you don’t like actually knowing that I was married.”
Hearing him say that made me want to cringe. “I honestly don’t know how I feel about it. I mean, it just really caught me off guard.”
Cole was in front of me, and I didn’t protest when he took my hands, tugging me away from the door. “Maybe you’ll know how to feel about it after I actually tell you.”
He led me to the couch, and when he sat, he pulled me down beside him. “Her name is Irene. I met her two years after you left. She’s not from around here originally.”
I dropped my hands to my lap and stayed quiet, because honestly, what in the world was I supposed to say to any of this?
“She’s a teacher in London County,” he explained, “and we met at the gym.”
Of course she would be someone who went to a gym, while I’d forgotten what those things looked like on the inside.
Cole leaned back as he rubbed a finger over his brow. “We started off as friends, and I knew it was more for her even from the beginning. She even asked me out first, and we dated for about a year and a half before I proposed to her.”
A horrible, completely irrational twisting motion compressed my chest. I left him, I reminded myself. I had no right to be upset or . . . or jealous of the fact he proposed to someone.
“We married six months later. Small ceremony,” he continued, and I worked to keep my expression open. “Irene is a great woman. We still stay in contact. It’s not often, but I always enjoy seeing her. She did nothing wrong in the marriage.”
Genuinely curious, I asked, “Then what happened?”
A wry smile formed on his lips. “I worked a lot, so I was away from home quite often. She tried to be okay with that, really she did. And I kept telling myself the reason why I worked twelve-hour shifts was because I was new at the FBI. I had to put my time in. Then she wanted to start a family, and that . . . that was the last thing I wanted. God’s honest truth, the moment she sat me down and said she wanted a baby, I didn’t even think about it. Told her that wasn’t happening. Felt like a huge dick, but that’s what I did. She said she was okay with that, and I think she really wanted to be. Truth was, she wasn’t, and I should’ve done the right thing then and ended the marriage.”
Cole shifted forward, resting his arms on his bent legs. “Two years ago, she asked me if I loved her or the job more, and that was when we separated, then divorced. I messed up. I really did. I’m not perfect, Sasha. I should’ve been honest with myself and her. As horrible as it is to say this, I should’ve never married her. Doing so made me the kind of man I never wanted to be.”
I sucked in a soft breath.
“She’s moved on since. Met someone. A doctor, actually. They’ll probably be married within a year.”
Okay. I was way too happy to hear that last part, and that probably didn’t say good things about me. “I . . .” I started to say I was sorry to hear that, because that was the natural response when you learned someone had divorced, but that sure as hell wouldn’t be genuine considering he’d already given me one orgasm and how I felt for him. So I decided to be honest. “I don’t know what to say, Cole. I want to say I’m sorry, but I’m . . . I’m not.” Lifting my gaze to his, I ignored the warmth zipping across my face. “If you were still with her, then we wouldn’t be sitting here.”
His eyes softened. “Babe . . .”
“But I’m wondering if . . . if we’re moving way too fast with everything,” I admitted, and my pulse started skyrocketing again. “Everything has been crazy, and it’s only been a week since we’ve laid eyes on each other and—”
“I haven’t told you everything,” he said.
I stiffened even though I imagined there was a lot he hadn’t had a chance to tell me.
Cole smiled. “For the longest time, I’d convinced myself that it was the job that came between us—the job that made me not even consider having kids.”
My brows snapped together. “It wasn’t?”
“No, babe. It wasn’t the job. As much as I love what I do, I never wanted it to be my life. I made it my life though. What came between Irene and me wasn’t the FBI. It was you.”
“What?” I jerked.
“You heard me right.” He took my hand, holding it between his. “It was you. It’s always been you.”
Oh my God.
Oh. My. God.
My pulse was all over the place for a totally different reason now. “I . . .”
A thunderous series of raps knocked off the interior apartment door. “Cole? Sasha? Are you two in there?”
“That’s Tyron.” Frowning, Cole rose swiftly from the couch. I followed him. He opened the door, and over his shoulder I saw my mother standing behind the detective, her face pale and worried. “What’s going on?” Cole asked.
My stomach knotted with dread.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you two, but this couldn’t wait.” The detective was holding a clear plastic bag, and inside of it was the package I’d gotten out of the mail. “This was behind the desk. Sasha, did you bring it inside?”
“Yeah,” I answered, stepping to Cole’s side. “Why are you asking?”
“I was on my way out when your mother picked up the mail from behind the desk,” he explained.
“It was leaking,” Mom added.
“Leaking?” I whispered. “Leaking what?”
“Have you opened it?” Cole demanded.
Detective Conrad shook his head. “I wanted to get her permission first.”
“You have my permission,” I told him, glancing at Mom. I noticed the guy from forensics was also in the hallway.
Detective Conrad turned, handing the bagged package over to the man. That’s when I saw that the corner of the package was a darker color of brown. I reached out, placing my hand on Cole’s arm.
The man reached inside with a gloved hand. Using a small knife, he carefully peeled one end open as Mom folded her arms. “Did you see where it was from?” she asked. “Who sent it?”
I shook my head. “I glanced at it, but I didn’t really look at it. I got distracted and set it down . . .”
“Sasha,” she whispered, and the dread exploded like buckshot.
The investigator eased out a black cardboard box the size of the package. It looked like a plain gift box to me. I held my breath as he opened it.
“Oh goodness!” Mom clapped her hands over her mouth and quickly twisted to the side.
“Holy shit,” the man said, turning to Detective Conrad. “You’re going to want to see this.”
“What is it?” I stepped forward, but only got so far, because suddenly Cole was in front of me and out in the hall. “Mom—?”
Cole cursed as the detective planted his hands on his hips, and that horrible feeling spread like a noxious weed, choking me as I stepped out in the hall.
Cole shifted, trying to hide what the investigator held, but I got between him and the detective. My mouth dropped open as I jolted back, bumping into the wall outside my apartment. Disbelief flooded me.
“No,” I whispered. “No way.”
Cole faced me, and there was a different set of emotions etched into his features. He took a step toward me, but I held up my hand. I needed the space—a moment, because what was in the box was wrong on so many levels.
It was a finger.
A woman’s finger.